HDM IV- There is More to Imagination
by Atal
Summary: PG only cuz of romantic content...hehe:) Kinda sorta a sequel to the HDM trilogy...cuz the ending wuz SO DARN SAD!!! I just had to write a Fanfic....this is my first attempt, so please r&r!! ...so sorry...it may start slow, but I'm just gettin in 2 it!!..
1. Forever

**Here's my first Fanfic!! Hope y'all like it!!...oh yea....all the   
characters belong to Philip Pullman, but the plot's mine...blah,blah,blah...  
well....read on!!:);)  
  
  
His Dark Materials IV  
There is More to Imagination  
  
  
Chapter One: Forever  
  
  
He sat in a dismal corner of his room, his back to the locked door.   
Hugging his knees against his chest, he sobbed silently. A large cat,   
panther-like in appearance, but with a thick coat the color of subtlety;  
lustrous fur that shone in every shade of darkness; blacks, blues,  
shadowy greys, and lavenders, padded softly over to him, her golden eyes   
glowing, concerned, in the semi-darkness. She was making every effort to  
comfort him, but she knew herself that nothing could ease the emotional pain   
he was suffering. Nothing but Lyra. But this was impossible. Wasn't it?  
  
Will Parry had remained in the same place for days in anguish. Ever   
since he had left Cittagazze, and most importantly, Lyra, forever, he had   
nearly lost the will to live. It was unlike him to concede, but what was   
there to live for? He remembered everything in precise detail; their first  
kiss; the taste of the little red fruit as she held it up to his mouth as  
a sign of affection; the honey-sweet scent of her hair as it brushed against   
his face; the night that their dæmons assumed their final forms upon the  
touch of a lover. Then, he remembered with agony, their last night together,  
as he held her close in the Botanical Garden on the bench beneath the   
low-spreading tree, and when they had shared their final kiss; passionate yet  
painful. And then he had sealed the window, the window that had released   
yet another Specter into existence, and she was gone forever. Forever. He  
hated the word. Forever was final, unchangeable. To Will, forever meant   
no hope. All he had were memories, but he needed more than that. He   
shivered. His dæmon Kirjava huddled closer, pressing her warm body against  
his. Nothing could have prepared him for the grief he was to face,  
and nothing could save him from the slow, painful death he was falling  
victim to. Nothing but Lyra. The pain he was suffering was similar to the  
way he felt when he had first sensed the presence of his dæmon, when she   
had been ripped from his heart upon entering the world of the Dead. But   
this was far worse, for Love is a powerful thing. He couldn't live without  
Kirjava, nor could he live without Lyra. He recalled what she had once  
said. I don't want a memory, just a memory... and this was all he had.   
Nearly overwhelmed with grief, he pulled his cat dæmon closer and uttered a  
shuddering, painful sigh.   
"Forever..." he muttered, distraught. Kirjava, offering all the   
comfort possible, snuggled closer. 


	2. 

  
  
  
Chapter Two: Midsummer's Day Approaches  
  
  
11 months later.......  
  
  
Nearly a year had passed since Will and Lyra had parted forever. Perhaps  
it was Will's instinctive denial of conceding that had kept him going, but   
with all of the emotional pain and grief he had suffered, there were numerous  
times he had nearly given in. His memories of Lyra were just as vivid as they  
had just parted, and he knew he'd never forget them. But perhaps hope was one   
of the factors that kept him from giving up. Soon after he had left her, Will  
had been thinking. Could there be a way to change Forever? He recalled the  
words of the angel Xaphania. We angels have other ways of traveling without  
using the windows of the Suble Knife, she had said. You could learn to travel  
as we do, as your father did. It uses the faculty of what you call imagination,  
but that does not mean making things up. It's a form of seeing, but not   
pretending. This way is harder, but much truer. This statement had given him  
hope, though he hadn't considered it until after Lyra had left him. So it was  
possible. But it was as well as impossible for him, he thought, melancholic,  
as he had no idea of how to perform the procedure. But his father could do it,  
whether or not it was intentional, so, with stubborn confidence, he knew that,  
although it might take him a lifetime, he could learn to do it too. He had  
been pondering over the subject ever since he and his mother had moved from  
their dilapidated, run-down dwelling to the well-kept, two story house of  
Mary Malone's, and his constant musing and silence had troubled them slightly.  
But they knew what he was going through and left him to himself. Ever since   
destruction of the Knife and the resulting Specters his mother had recovered  
from her illness, and all was well, except, of course, on the subject of Lyra.  
It was always the most important things that were troubling him.  
  
******************************************************************************  
  
Mary Malone felt his pain. Leaving the Mulfa after her prolonged stay  
with them, after she had saved their world and the wheel-pod trees, nearly  
mastered their language, and made close friendships among the strange, wheeled  
people was painful for her. Often, she would sit in her study, a half-finished  
document in front of her, and remember her times spent with the mulefa. For  
once, she had felt of importance, and she longed for the memories to become  
a reality again. But although she had been able to find a way to communicate  
with Dust, finding a way to travel between worlds without disturbing the  
delicate balance that kept them separate was a task not even she could   
execute. Her dæmon, Vogel, and alpine chough, had attempted to comfort her  
as Kirjava had with Will, but the little black bird with his glossy  
black feathers, bright orange legs, and curved yellow beak had no better luck.  
Although her grief wasn't as acute as Will's, she missed the kind-hearted  
creatures, and especially the zalif Atal, whom she had been particularly close  
to. But as Midsummer's Day neared, despite the grief they were feeling, nothing  
could have prepared them for the visitor that they were soon to have.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
